


Do Over

by orphan_account



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bisexual Qrow Branwen, Dissociation, Dissociative Identity Disorder, M/M, Reincarnation, Slow Burn, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:29:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22677187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "What can I do for the sake of your smiling face?"Clover is swept off his feet by a man he just met but seems so familiar to him.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen & Clover Ebi, Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 9
Kudos: 65





	1. Afterimage

**Author's Note:**

> I have never written fic before but here we effin go I guess.

"Last night I dreamt I was at your funeral."

Clover looked up from his book and locked eyes with his roommate, Elm Ederne. She had a habit of being horrendously blunt and saying whatever thought crossed her mind as soon as it entered. This time was no different from any other but Clover decided to humor her with a response.

"Well I suppose I should start writing my will then, hm?" he remarked as he set the book on the table in front of him.

"It wasn't you you. It was...a different you." she responded with slight frustration.

"Last I checked there was only one me, but I'll admit I'm very interested to hear about the rest of this 'different me' you supposedly dreamed about." Clover said, a smirk growing on his face.

"I would love to if only a certain someone would stop interrupting every five seconds!" Elm grumbled, glaring at Clover and pausing slightly before continuing. "This you was a cop, sort of? Like an elite, fantasy cop or whatever." 

All of the color in Clover's seemed to drain away and the hair on the back of his neck stood straight as he silently listened to Elm ramble on. He was only half listening at this point and caught bits and pieces of the story. Floating cities, magic powers… An odd feeling grew in his stomach, a twisting uncomfortable sensation as reality settled into his bones with a cold chill.

"...hey you alright, Cloves? You zonin' out again?" Elm slowly moved from her spot across the table from Clover and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

"I... it's the same dream." he mumbled, meeting eyes with Elm once more. "You were an operative too, weren't you."

"How did you kn–"

_"We had the same dream, Elm."_

Clover looked at Elm with a dazed expression on his face. Neither of them said a word and their living room was silent save for the ticking of a clock. The air around him felt heavy and staticky at the same time, as if he was breathing pure white noise. He desperately wanted to brush this off as nothing but a weird coincidence but he'd been having that same dream for a month now.

_Get it together, Clover. Break the tension._

Clover suddenly laughed loudly and stood up to ruffle Elm's hair. "I can't believe I've lived with you long enough that we're sharing dreams! How long until we finally start communicating telepathically?"

"Ugh! Clover! I _just_ fixed my hair!" Elm exclaimed

"Sorry, Elmo. Ooh quick, what am I thinking right now?" he teased.

"Is it 'I hope Elm doesn't kick my ass'? because I'm about to kick your ass." she hissed as she slowly approached the man.

"Luckily I don't have time to answer that." Clover grinned as Elm's phone lit up and rang from the table. "Didn't know you were expecting a call."

"Lucky you. As always." Elm countered as she went to grab her phone. Before she left the room to take the call she turned to Clover one last time. "Don't go reading into that dream, either. It's just a weird dream."

"Of course." Clover responded with a nod, but as soon as Elm rounded the corner he immediately went back to wondering about it. There was one thing. One striking detail that stuck out to him. 

The smell of sandalwood and ash that lingered even though no one he knew had any fragrance similar. A voice with such a warmth but hid such sadness in it that Clover's heart would ache when he woke up. A voice, a smell, but no face to put with it...

Just a name. Who knew if it was a first name or a nickname, either.

_"Who are you, Qrow?"_


	2. Parabolic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If I only had wings,” I said, sighing at the ash ahead  
> “I’d fly like a bird, yearning for the faraway clouds”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aka the chapter where I briefly mention my "Clover has DID" headcanon and never bring it  
> up again.

_"Don't forget to go into town and get groceries while Elm is at work today! We promised her we would last night so hop to it(because I know you're definitely going to sleep in, Clover) when you get up, thanks!"_

Clover was used to the sticky notes by now. They appear at random in places only he'd think to look: behind the toothbrush holder, tucked in his wallet or even folded in his bike basket. All meticulously descriptive of things he had "said" or promised despite any recollection of it. They certainly did help with day to day mundane tasks, but one thing always bugged him.

"Could you at least start signing your letters with your names?" Clover muttered aloud as he grabbed his backpack, slipped his earphones in his ears and walked towards the door. 

Grocery day was his favorite chore, not just because he got to purchase food. His bike basket couldn't hold all of the things they needed so Clover had to take a ten minute walk to get to Mantle Station. It gave him plenty of time to visit with his neighbors and get a bit of a workout in. 

Clover gazed at the rising sun on the horizon and smiled. He preferred to leave around this time simply to enjoy the beauty of the new day as soon as it arrived. The sky, painted in its reds, orange and blues, were rarely seen by the town residents and Clover often basked in the sight alone. The street lights were just flickering off as he rounded the block before the station.

The station building was a treasure to the locals. It had originally been a single railway station with a lone platform leading to a modest brick ticket office. Ten years back the station was renovated and expanded upon to accommodate lines to other cities, making it the first three story, multi-line station in Mantle. Most of the town considered it worthy of being a historical monument and saw it as a testament to the bridge between new and old, brick antiquity to concrete and steel modernism. However, Clover just saw it as a big eyesore.

From Mantle Station it was the W-Line straight into the heart of Solitas City, a bustling metropolis where the buildings were high and the cost of rent was higher.

Regardless of the cost of living, the city was home to the largest and most well stocked shopping districts for miles around. The lack of quality store options elsewhere was solely due to the Schnee Corporation as their CEO, Jacques, had laid claim to the prime spots for business early on in the city's development. 

_"Where's the shopping list?" a voice nagged at the front of Clover's mind_

"Didn't make one. Thought you were going to do it since you're the one that left the note." Clover replied with a shrug as he began to climb the steps to the second floor.

He wasn't worried about getting strange looks or weird glasses from any passerby for talking out loud. Technology was so advanced to the point where people could have phone conversations through flimsy earbud microphones. To everyone else he was just talking on the phone, and being honest he preferred it that way.

_"Well could you make one now?"_

"I guess I could, yeah but–"

Clover was interrupted as a figure suddenly came into view. The person in front of him was falling forwards at an angle that threatened to send them toppling over the guardrails and down to the first floor below. In one fluid motion he reached out to grab the falling individual and instinctively pulled them into his arms. His heart was pounding in his chest and adrenaline raced through him as he steadied himself. 

"Well that could have been bad." he said with a nervous laugh.

"Yeah you're tellin me…" a gruff, masculine voice responded. The fortunate man stepped back and began to look himself over, giving Clover a chance to see just who he had saved. 

The man was slightly shorter and skinnier than Clover. His hair was short and black with streaks of gray running through it in an oddly feather-like way. Light red eyes contrasted the rest of his otherwise monochrome outfit. He sported a dark gray vest over a lighter gray button up shirt with rolled up sleeves, giving him an almost formal if not for the top buttons being loose. Clover spotted a leather blueprint carrier resting behind him.

"You an architect?" Clover asked, pointing to the carrier.

"Pal, if I designed buildings not many of them would still be standing." the man replied flatly. "I'm a draftsman. Mainly do freelance work. What about yourself?" 

"I'm a fisherman. I run a bait and tackle here in town four days a week, and I'm out fishing for two. My name's Clover, Clover Ebi."

"Fisherman Clover, huh? Well it was nice to meet you- and have you save my skin…" the man replied and nodded to a clock on the wall. "...I hate to cut this short but I'm about to miss my train. _Catch_ you later, Clover."

Before Clover could object the man had already begun racing up the stairs and around the corner. Deeming it a lost cause to try and ask for his name now, he shrugged and walked towards his own platform. He considered himself lucky that no one was hurt during that incident, and lucky that the man was light enough to not send Clover down the stairs with him. 

_"What an interesting man."_ the voice mused. 

"Yeah you're telling me." Clover mumbled.

He began to absentmindedly dust off his jacket while waiting for the train to depart. He had just reached up to brush dust off his shoulder when he noticed it. _That smell again! Here of all places?!_ In an instant he was on high alert as the same dread from yesterday settled in. That key detail, the piece of the puzzle he was looking for from his dreams. His clothes smelled of sandalwood and ash, scents that were not on his clothes when he put them on. 

_It was him. The smell had come from that man that fell into me! It was him!_

Clover stood up and frantically made his way to the train doors through the now crowded carriage, but he arrived just as they slid shut. He cursed himself silently as the train pulled away from the station, the distance between him and the mysterious growing with each little bit of acceleration. He had his answer, if only briefly, in his arms...

And it just left Clover with more questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day. I have the flu (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)  
> Victory cookie to whoever gets  
> The meaning(s) behind this ch title

**Author's Note:**

> Please be gentle I am horribly shy. RSD sucks.  
> (｡ŏ﹏ŏ)


End file.
